


always a little love

by charjace



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charjace/pseuds/charjace
Summary: i don't always right in second person, but i started it that way and it just started flowing
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh
Kudos: 4





	always a little love

ears have gone by, and it’s hard to know you’ve drifted apart from those you use to call your friends. It’s a sad thought, because they were the only friends you knew. They had accepted you for  _ you _ and you had done the same, it was a beautiful thing and you didn’t know if you could live without them, but slowly and surely you started to drift apart. It was so slow you hadn’t realized it until you were thirty-five years old and you barely spoke to any of them. It hurt you, deep down it did every time you thought about it, but what could you do? You moved around too much for your job, they were scattered around the states. You visit them as often as you can, but it’s barely there anymore and it’s a sad thought to think on when you down that third glass of whiskey. The burning sensation was a welcomed distraction, you were heading off to a different country to go over a few things. 

It was going to be a long trip, a long  _ lonenly _ trip, but being lonely isn’t something that get’s to you, not when for most of your childhood that feeling was all you really knew. It’s a feeling you’re at peace with, but – this time, it feels like there is something missing, but you can’t place it and it’s getting annoying because you just want to place it, put a name to it and learn to accept it.

A sudden burst of a melody burst through your thoughts and it brings you back to your fragmented reality. Your phone is buzzing against your side, as you pull it out and see the caller, a smile spreads across your face and you walk yourself out of the bar. It’s quieter out there, and you want to hear her voice as clear as it would get over the phone. It’s quiet for a while, but then she speaks – it's a little broken and you can hear the hurting on the end in her voice. The heart sinking feeling makes you move your feet, and your car. You shouldn’t be driving, but there was something driving you and you just had to get home. You had to get there, and it’s a miracle you don’t get pulled over, it’s a miracle you don’t crash and get home in one piece.

Your home is a nice little place, you never really needed much, just because it was almost always just  _ you _ . Dating never really was a thing you went out and did, you just... didn’t want it and threw yourself into your work, and you did it more as you and your friends seemed to get more distant from each other. You keep her on the line until your phone dies, just listening to her talk, to her  _ breathe,  _ those shaky inhales and exhales. You keep her on until the small guest bedroom is set up, and you tell her it’s going to be okay.

The morning came, and you cancelled your trip, it could wait – you don’t really need to be there in person, not yet anyway. They can wait,  _ she _ can’t. You’re in the airport when she arrives, pulling you into a hug, and you return it and it feels just  _ right _ . It’s like a missing piece, and she is slotting right into place. You help her with her bags that her friend Kay helped pack, you can see the bruises, but you don’t say anything. Not on the way home, not when you show her the guest room, you don’t say anything about it when you guys talk, it’s the one thing you guys don’t talk about it. You don’t want to push her, you don’t want to send her running – though, you know she could just as easily go to Richie, Stan, Bill, Eddie or Mike, and you’d still know she was safe.

You don’t know  _ much _ , but you know that she left her husband, her horrid awful husband. You know that Kay had offered her a place to stay, but she wanted a place  _ away _ from  _ him _ and you gladly offered up your home to her. You know that everyone you know, in a heartbeat would be there for  _ her _ , __ it was your guys thing. You’ll stand together, forever, through the thick and thin – through everything, no matter what. You’ll get there, with your little group of Losers.

It’s the middle of the night when there is a light knock on your doorframe, in the darkness you can make out her shape. How she is holding herself like a hollow space of who she used to be, she asks if she can share the bed – like a kid would ask their parents after a nightmare, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, so move over and she climbs in next to you. You hold her against you, and press a soft kiss to that  fiery red hair of hers.

“I’m proud of you,” You whisper into her hair, and you’re telling the truth because you are. You’re proud of  her, of her getting this far. Of getting away from him and turning to her friends for help. The words ‘ _ I love you’  _ hang in the air, but you think she knows it. It’s always been an unspoken thing between you and her, between you and the rest of the Losers. You all love each other, but you think your love for Beverly has never been quiet the same as it has for the others. It’s always been a bit more romantic, but you were always happy with just the platonic things because as long as she was there by your side, you were alright. You felt more  _ whole _ with her in your life. “ So _ fucking _ proud, Bev.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't always right in second person, but i started it that way and it just started flowing


End file.
